


what if it all ends

by alotofthingsdifferent



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:07:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23344111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alotofthingsdifferent/pseuds/alotofthingsdifferent
Summary: Love in the time of a zombie apocalypse.
Relationships: Jon Lovett/Tommy Vietor
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	what if it all ends

**Author's Note:**

> Life's tough nowadays, friends. Here's a quick little zombie apocalypse au that will hopefully brighten your day.

It’s the distant, shrill cry of a warning siren -- three successive wails, knocking around in his head -- that wakes him from the best sleep he’s had in weeks. It drags him from slumber slowly, and for a moment he thinks he’s dreaming. It almost sounds like a morning bird singing its sunrise song, and it’s that thought that makes his eyes snap open, his heart suddenly racing. 

He hasn’t heard a morning bird -- or any bird -- in months.

That means --

“Tommy,” he whispers loudly, allowing himself a moment to revel in the way Tommy hums and curls closer, the arm slung over Lovett’s waist tightening. He closes his eyes and breathes in _(one, two, three, four)_ and out _(one, two,three,four)_, hoping, maybe, he _was_ just imagining the sound.

When he hears it again, screaming _twee-twee-twee_ in the early morning silence, he sits bolt upright, ignoring Tommy’s grunt of protest. His eyes scan the room for his clothes -- they’re scattered about, strewn where Tommy’d thrown them the night before when he was stripping Lovett out of them -- and clocks the time, quickly calculating how many minutes they have before --

“Tommy,” he says again, louder this time. “We gotta -- fuck, Tommy, we gotta go. We gotta go  
_now_.”

~

It doesn’t take them long to gather the essentials. They’ve only been here for a week or so, which is longer than they’ve been anywhere in at least a month, actually, and Lovett can admit that he’s maybe gotten a little too comfortable. A little too hopeful. It’s probably why he’d let himself be seduced last night, by Tommy’s eyes, and Tommy’s muscles, and Tommy’s mouth. By Tommy’s promises of a future. 

He’d resisted for so long, he’d _been_ resisting since the day after this fucking zombie apocolypse ripped the world apart and Tommy’d looked at him with tear-stained cheeks and wide eyes and professed that he’d been in love with Lovett since the day they’d met (or something equally cheesy, Lovett can’t really remember).

_“We’re all gonna die, Tommy,”_ Lovett remembers saying. _“We’re all gonna die, and I can’t let myself love you and then turn around tomorrow and lose you. I just -- I can’t.”_

But last night, sprawled on the couch next to Tommy, reminiscing about what life was like _before_, he’d let his guard down. He’d gotten too comfortable, and he’d opened his big mouth and brought up the fact that they’d been in the same place for a full seven days. “Watch out, Tommy,” he’d said with a sly, flirty grin. “If we’re not careful, we’ll start growing roots here,” he’d joked, and Tommy had looked at him, eyes shining, and whispered, “Jon,” reaching for him in the dark.

“We can’t,” Lovett whispered against Tommy’s mouth, but it was a weak rebuttal and they both knew it. Lovett already had his hands up under Tommy’s shirt, was already letting Tommy kiss him breathless. “Tommy, Tommy,” Lovett chanted, Tommy’s name tumbling out of his mouth like a prayer. “Please, I need --”

“Yeah,” Tommy answered, helping Lovett out of his clothes. “Yeah, Lovett, whatever you want.” He kissed each bit of exposed skin, tongued at Lovett’s nipples while Lovett groaned and writhed beneath him. His hands were hot on Lovett’s hips, holding him down while he worshipped Lovett with his mouth, and when Lovett came, he confessed everything he felt for Tommy in three whispered words. 

They fell asleep wrapped up in one another, Lovett tucked into Tommy’s arms like he’d finally found his way home. 

And then morning came.

He shakes himself from the memory of the night before and tucks their food pack into the back seat carefully, not mentioning how light it’s gotten and ignoring the way his stomach growls at him when a box of granola bars tumbles out and onto the floor. He shoves them back in and covers the bag with a tattered blanket, ignoring the blood spatter on the torn corner. _The zombie tried to eat Tommy, you had no choice,_, he reminds himself, but the zombie had been a friend once, so it’s still a little hard to reconcile. 

“Hey,” Tommy says, his hand landing on Lovett’s hip, and Lovett jumps, hitting his head on the roof of the car. “He tried to eat me,” he reminds Lovett softly, and Lovett nods, wiping a stray tear from his eye. 

“I know,” he says, clearing his throat and moving aside to let Tommy pack their ammo bag under the seat. Lovett’s not sure if it’s getting as light as their food supply, and he’s too afraid to ask. Tommy closes the car door and reaches for Lovett’s wrist, wrapping his fingers around it and pulling Lovett in. He buries his face in Tommy’s broad chest, sniffling quietly. Tommy kisses the top of his head, and Lovett mumbles “I’m sorry” into his shirt.

“For what?” Tommy asks, and Lovett shrugs one shoulder.

“Jinxing this, I guess.”

Tommy laughs, pinching Lovett’s side. “Idiot,” he says fondly. “You think because you finally let me love you, the zombies are gonna get us?”

“I mean,” Lovett says, waving his hand in the general direction of the screaming siren.

“C’mon, Lo,” Tommy says softly. “We knew we couldn’t stay here forever. The good news is, this is the longest we’ve had without an incident, right? That means they’re slowing down. That means our team is getting stronger, and theirs is getting weaker. That means,” he says, lacing his fingers with Lovett’s and bringing Lovett’s hand to his mouth, kissing Lovett’s knuckles, “the the future I promised you? It’s coming, Jon. I can see it. I can _feel_ it.”

Lovett’s throat tightens, and he nods, tilting his head up for a quick kiss. The siren screams again -- _twee-twee-twee_ \-- and Tommy jumps in the driver’s seat, Lovett next to him on the passenger side, their hands joined in the middle. Tommy hits the gas, and for the first time since this all began, Lovett doesn’t look back.


End file.
